


When It Comes To The Crunch

by aegicheezu



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 03:09:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11431902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aegicheezu/pseuds/aegicheezu
Summary: Why do Howard and Vince find themselves fighting constantly?Fluffy.





	When It Comes To The Crunch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cali_se](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cali_se/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Man and Moon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4792541) by [Cali_se](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cali_se/pseuds/Cali_se). 



"Howard, you sure you'll be alright looking after the shop, won't ya?" Naboo asked plaintively as Bollo continued to load up the carpet hovering out front.

"Don't you worry about a thing Naboo, I'll keep an eye on Vince." He practically shoved Naboo out the door.

"Vince isn't the one I'm worried about!" Naboo retorted. 

 _Well, this conversation is annoyingly familiar_ , Howard thought, remembering his encounter with the Hitcher a few months back. _Let's not think about that too much now, sir,_ he carried on. _Though, that mash-up was a banger._  

"Have a good time guys," Vince meandered to where the men and ape stood now, outside the shop. He was styling his hair. "Bring us back some wicked potions, yeah?" 

"Yeah yeah. Sure you don't want some owl beaks, Howard?" Naboo joked as he set off, leaving Howard stewing without time for a comeback as the duo floated away. 

 

***

 

Vince was perched against a glass display case in the boutique, gingerly twirling pieces of his long black hair and gazing at himself in a bejewelled handheld mirror. He'd changed three times before finally settling on that silver chest-bearing jumpsuit that _did things_ to Howard, likely unbeknownst to the electro boy. 

"Would you mind sweeping up, Vince, if you could tear yourself away from that reflection of yours?" there was an annoyance in Howard's voice that he didn't mean to be there. 

"Alright, alright," Vince put the mirror down and rolled his eyes at Howard. "You're just cross with me because I was able to shift that turquoise jewellery set that you haven't been able to sell in a month."

"Am not," Howard replied, like a child. He was, actually. 

"Let's have a drink, yeah?" Vince mused as he swept the shop floor, Howard's eyes glued to the other man's lovely, slim, and very holographic figure. 

"Hmm?" he snapped out of his fixed gaze, having missed Vince's invitation. 

"A drink, Howard. The shop is dead, we haven't had anyone come in for hours."

"Yeah, alright then."

"Make me a flirtini, would you?" Vince propped the broom against a wall and patted Howard's shoulder. 

"You're joking." Howard smirked, finding himself wishing Vince would keep his hand there just a beat longer. He shook his head, perhaps trying to shift the thought away. 

"Yeah, I am. Beer's fine." Vince laughed.

"Coming right up, little man."

 

***

 

After some time, the pair found themselves sat on the cool linoleum floor of the shop, legs draped over each other's, leaning against the display cases and drinking and laughing. By now, they were both very happily buzzing. 

"We've had some good times in this shop, haven't we, Howard?" Vince mused, softly. 

"We sure have, Vincey boy. How many looks have you gone through since we've been together?"

"I've got to be on the cutting edge of fashion, I'm the bleedin' mayor of Camden! The Shoreditch Vampire!" Vince laughed. 

"Don't forget the day and a half you were King of the Mods," Howard replied, mock-sarcastically. 

"Well, at least I explore different styles," Vince shot back, "unlike someone I know." He took another swig of his beer. 

"And what's that supposed to mean, sir?" Howard replied. He stared Vince down. "I'm Howard TJ Moon! There's a simple truth to me. I don't need to accessorise with sequin and feathers, no sir."

Suddenly, Vince stood up. He was always so quick to get offended. Howard followed suit, and now they seemed to square up. The alcohol had made them both a little pinker in the face, and the room seemed warmer than usual. 

"You call that style?" Vince poked at Howard's brown bowling shirt. "I've seen better in photographs of dustbowl farmers!" 

"I'm really not in the mood for this, Vince," Howard began. "We always rag on each other's fashion choices! It's always something!" _Why do we always blow up at each other like this? There must be a reason for it..._ Howard stopped himself before he delved too far. He knew what truths were waiting for him there.

"You know I'm right, Howard," Vince seemed emboldened, and stepped closer to the other man. "What would it hurt, to let me make you over, hey?" they stood barely a foot apart, now. "Christ, I'd like to burn that old brown suit jacket of yours..." he smirked. Something had changed in his voice, and his eyes seemed so much more serious than they usually were. 

"Vince..." Howard started to say "Vince, what's gotten into you?" but he was stopped by one of the other man's slim fingers pressed against his mouth in a "shhh" motion.

" _Live a little, Howard_ ," Vince said, in a low growl. He flung Howard's fedora off his head and across the room. Closing the space between them, Vince pressed his strawberry-glossed lips against Howard's. 

 

 _Well this is new_ , Howard thought, as he pulled Vince in closer.


End file.
